


Immortality

by TheSwanWriter



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: AU, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Pan is not related to Rumple, Peter!centric, a bit OOC
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-21
Updated: 2013-11-21
Packaged: 2018-01-02 05:38:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1053129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSwanWriter/pseuds/TheSwanWriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Henry thinks he's there to save magic. It's a lie; Pan knows it. He made it up.<br/>And he tells Henry the truth. (Most of it, anyway.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Immortality

**Author's Note:**

> AU: Peter was teenage Rumplestiltskin's closest and best friend, but he sent Rumplestiltskin back to his abusive father when he went to Neverland. Rumple understandably never forgave him. He needs Henry's heart to save him still, because otherwise he will die and cease being immortal. And Henry is thirteen in this, simply because Jared is and I want his age to match his looks.

Henry's so innocent and naïve. He doesn't even know; he doesn't have a clue. 

I used to feel proud of that, like I always have when I'm fooling someone. It was amusing and I felt that it gave me power. 

But things have changed, albeit slowly. I can't keep lying to him. I haven't felt this much since I sent Rumple away, and it's all his fault. 

Oh, Henry noticed my staring. He's looking at me with a smile. Stupid boy. He doesn't realise what he does to me, which isn't surprising. I've spent nearly a hundred years building up this emotionless facade, and one boy won't force me to drop it now. 

I don't know when it started being a facade; it used to be true. For so long was it true. If it were my choice, it still would be. I hate this, I hate him for making me like this. It makes things too difficult.

 The whole mission is simple: convince Henry to believe in me so he'll give me his heart and then I can live forever, immortal and young. He'll die, sure, but it's collateral damage. I shouldn't care. 

But I do. I can't do it because I care. 

The Shadow was right; in order to live like I do, I must have no weaknesses. But the boy is my weakness, and there's no way around it. 

It feels like I'm going to implode when I see Henry. I can't control myself around him. The amount of self-control it takes to remain calm when he is near is outrageous. I think about him when I wake up and before I fall asleep, and it sickens me. All of my behaviour sickens me. I can't stand feeling this way. I need to get rid of him, or else I will not be able to control myself in his presence any longer. 

I told myself for the first week I  felt like this that it was purely lust. I suppose that in my mind, thinking I was lusting after a thirteen year old boy was less disturbing than the alternative. 

But earlier this day, I came to the realisation that I was wrong. It was not lust, no matter how hard I attempted to convince myself that it was. 

It all started when I woke up this morning with a cold feeling in my stomach. I arose quickly and stalked through the camp, trying to find Henry. But he was nowhere to be seen.

For the first time in a hundred years, I panicked. 

To the Lost Boys, I just seemed extremely angry. The only one who guessed how I was truly feeling was Felix. 

"We'll find the boy," he had told me in a hushed voice as I paced the campsite. I had just sent out all the Lost Boys to find Henry, but Felix hadn't left yet. 

"Get out of here and find him then!" I'd demanded angrily. Any of the other boys may have been surprised by my outburst, but Felix wasn't. He knew me better than that. 

Felix raised an eyebrow in a technique he'd adapted from me. "We'll find him; it's not like he can leave. No need to panic."

I turned away from him and fought the urge to run my fingers through my hair in a display that would've shown my stress. "I need him."

Felix's other eyebrow went up at that. "For his heart?"

I froze. "Yes, of course. Why else?" I retorted quickly. 

He'd just given me a glance before he strolled into the jungle, casual as ever. 

While the boys were gone, I had thought heavily on my short conversation with Felix. Of course I needed him for his heart, what a stupid suggestion. 

But, I had realised then, even I can only lie to myself so much. 

Felix had found Henry shortly after. He had wandered into the forest and gotten lost, apparently. I didn't know if I believed his tale. He had given me a look that suggested he was exasperated by all the fuss over his disappearance. 

I had simply told him that he would need to stay where I could see him. That's the reason for him being so near to me at this moment, because normally I would take my eyes off him to patrol Neverland. 

But I can't bear to see him disappear again. And the reason isn't because I want his heart to continue my immortality. It's because—no matter how I deny it—I've fallen in love with the Truest Believer. 

And that thought is the one thing in the universe that scares me. 

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

It's now only three hours—give or take—before I will die. Felix is urging me to hurry and take Henry to Skull Rock and finish it now, but I tell him that it's not the right time yet. 

It's a preposterous lie, but Felix trusts me to a certain degree, so he says nothing. 

No one expects what I've decided to do. 

The Lost Boys know the truth of why I want Henry's heart, so they're looking forward to when they can throw a celebration once they know I'm not going to die. I give an announcement to the camp, with Henry by my side. 

"Tonight is the night Henry will save magic!" I shout, placing my palm on his back. I savour the contact, but don't let it show. The boys cheer, and only Felix looks slightly suspicious of me. I give a practiced grin to the boys that they think means that my plan is successful. I lead Henry out of the camp, my hand not leaving its new place on his shoulder, and I listen to the shouts of the boys. They're cheering us on as we go, and they wave us off, believing that the next time they see me, I will be enthusiastic and youthful still. 

I fight the urge to say goodbye. Loving Henry seems to be melting my cold heart into a pile of Charming-esque mush, because I haven't felt such emotion when facing my death before. 

"So," Henry says after we walk through the jungle for another ten minutes. "When will we get to Skull Rock?"

My hand leaves his shoulder at last and I step in front of him. 

"I've been lying to you, Henry." The words feel as if they're choking me while they escape my throat.  

Henry doesn't move. He looks at me in distrust. "What d'you mean?"

He hasn't given me a look like that for awhile, and it stings to see it again. "I don't need your heart to save magic. Magic isn't even in danger. I need your heart to save myself."

Henry looks at me again, and it doesn't appear that he's fully comprehending what I'm saying. 

"I'll still do it," he says finally. 

I give him a mirthless laugh. "You'll die, Henry."

Henry steps away now and I can feel my walls beginning to break. 

"Why are you dying?" he asks then, his voice flat. 

"Haven't you ever heard what happened to Gothel and the golden flower? Immortality never lasts. I became immortal when I was a teenager, but I was given a clock. I'd stay forever young, but unless I could find someone with a belief big enough to conquer kingdoms within one-hundred and fifty years, get him to give me his heart, and place it inside myself, I would die."

Henry is looking at me, and I can't tell if his look is one of pity or genuine sadness. 

"If one life is going to exist that should not, then one life that shouldn't cease yet must end. It's the balance of nature, and Neverland is not exempt from it," I finish explaining.

"Why are you telling me? You could've just taken my heart anyways, I would've given it to you," Henry says, looking distraught, surprised, and confused at once. 

"It doesn't matter," I reply flatly. I turn to face a bush and move the leaves, revealing a sight which  Henry would typically love to see. 

It's his family, gathered around a camp and looking determined as they talk amongst themselves. I think Henry and I both know what they're discussing: rescuing him. 

"Mom... Dad," Henry remarks quietly, his eyes widening in surprise. 

"You'd better go," I state, crossing my arms. Henry turns to face me and looks torn. 

"Peter, I can't leave you," he murmurs.

I scoff. It's a ridiculous statement. Of course he can leave, I'm letting him. What reason could he possibly have to stick around?

I feel a small shred of hope for a second, thinking maybe he feels something for me. Anything. But that's as foolish as Henry's last thought. I kidnapped him, took him from his family, ruined his life, lied to him, and tried to kill him. I'm relatively sure the list of wrongs I've done him goes on and on. There is no reason for him to feel anything for me but hatred. 

So I bend my knees a little so we're face to face. I look him in the eye and when I speak again, my voice is serious. "Yes, you can."

Henry looks as if he's about to cry, but before he has the chance, I lift my hand and wave it across his face. He starts to slump to the ground, unconscious, but I wrap my arms around him before he hits the dirt. 

"I'm sorry, Henry," I whisper into his hair. And then—in a sweet, heartbreaking gesture sure to rival even Snow White's—I press a kiss into his hair and rise from the ground. 

I begin to move into Charming's vicinity, and my walk is halting and choppy, fair from my usual graceful steps. One of my arms is under Henry's knees, and the other is under his neck. I continue walking forcefully until I'm visible to the camp inhabitants. 

All of them rise up, drawing their swords and staring me down until they see Henry. The Evil Que—Regina— looks murderous. 

"So this is how you greet your prodigal son? So glad I'm not related to you," I remark snidely. I lower Henry to the ground, brushing his hair out of his eyes. It's gotten long during his stay. 

I arise and smirk at their shocked faces. Rumplestiltskin's is truly priceless. It looks as if this was the one thing he wasn't expecting. 

I intend to say a witty remark about their reactions and perhaps a clever greeting to Rumple, but I can't bring myself to. I can't seem to do anything but kneel beside Henry. 

I realise how long I've been sitting there, staring at him, so I get up and leave without giving them a second glance, not even my signature smirk.

I'm not in the mood to do so, anyways. 

And if there's a tear sliding down my cheek as I walk away, I'll never admit to it again. 

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

I'm not sure exactly how long it's been since I left Henry with his parents, but it's been at least a few hours. 

I found myself a nice, quiet place to die; the ledge Henry and I leapt from on his first night in Neverland. It's rather odd, but I've made a sort of peace with dying. Maybe I feel I have nothing left to live for. 

 I'm playing my pipe, the non-enchanted one, and it's letting out a sad melody from my pained lungs. Curse love and caring and feelings. They're completely useless except to decrease efficiency and ruin lives. 

I hear rustling in the leaves behind me, but I don't bother turning around. It's probably Felix.

And although I haven't felt the Charmings leave the island yet, I know they will soon, so I don't allow myself to hope even a little that it's Henry. 

"Not dead yet?"

Perhaps it was a little too soon for my hope to fade entirely. 

"My ears must be playing tricks on me," I remark hoarsely. 

My voice isn't the only thing going; it feels as though my entire body is going through a rapid process of degeneration. I know it's not long until I die, but I'll hold out as long as I can. 

"Nope," Henry says softly, sitting next to me and dangling his legs over the cliff. I put aside my pipe to speak with him. 

"Come to watch the show?" I reply dryly, straining my voice. 

"I came to help you," Henry announces. I stare at him a few seconds. 

"I don't want your heart, Henry. Get out of here, go home," I say roughly. It feels like there's a never-ending stream of gravel going down my throat, and it hurts. 

All of me hurts. 

"You're getting worse," Henry states. 

I look at him and smile humourlessly. "There's no cure for this curse, Henry."

And that's when Henry's gaze flicks down to my mouth. Next thing I know, his chapped, dry lips are on mine. It's inexperienced, and it lasts but a second, but it feels like the most magical thing ever. I feel like my insides have exploded like fireworks and my heart starts beating fast. My throat feels clear and I hear a more metallic version of wind rushing by. 

Magic. 

Henry pulls back in a split second and flushes bright red. I stare at him momentarily in confusion. 

"They... well, everyone always says 'true love's kiss can break any curse,'" Henry says, looking at me with a small smile. 

My heart is pounding and I pull him in for another kiss. 

Maybe tomorrow things will be different. But as of now, I'm not dying, I'm not alone, and I have my believer by my side. 

So I'll kiss him again, and again, and again. I'm not sure when I'll stop, but I don't care right now. 

All I care about is Henry.

**Author's Note:**

> A.N. wrote this in school today and even though it's not that good—also it's my first 1st person POV story— I decided to post it because there's a severe lack of Panry on here. Or anywhere, for that matter.


End file.
